Capricon is a four-day science fiction convention held annually in the Chicagoland area since 1981. This year, its 41st iteration, will be held virtually with the theme “Creating the Future We Want.”

You can attend! Sign up and learn more here. Organizers ask you to pay at least $10 for the weekend, but if life hasn’t gone well lately, you can attend for free. I signed up for the premium level to help out, so be my guest.

Expect music, a dance, a cooking workshop, a game or two, an open mic, and parties, in addition to panels on all sorts of topics from silly to serious. Since the pandemic hit and life has moved online, science fiction conventions have steadily learned to use technology to create events that aren’t quite like being there in person but still might be the social highlight of your month.

I’m scheduled for four events:

Thursday, February 4, 6:00 to 6:30 p.m., reading. Science Fiction vs. Literary Fiction: Who’s in Control? I’ll read an essay that explores how and why the stories of science fiction tell an uncomfortable truth about what really matters.

Saturday, February 6, 5:00 to 6:00 p.m., panel. Information Please! Based on the 1930s radio quiz show, Information Please tries to stump a panel of experts with a wide variety of questions about science fiction and fantasy where the fun is listening to their discussions as much as seeing if you can figure out the answer first. Steven H Silver is moderating, and other panelists are Barbara Barnett, David Hirsch, and Gary K Wolfe.

Saturday, February 6, 7:00 to 8:00 p.m., panel. The Power of the Short Story. What makes the short story such a potent form? I will moderate. Panelists are Rowan Fixemer, Michael Haynes, Donna J.W. Munro, and Lucy A. Snyder.

Sunday, February 7, 1:00 to 2:00 p.m., panel. The Sapir Wharf Hypothesis and Dystopian Fiction. The Sapir Wharf Hypothesis proposes that the structure of language determines a native speaker’s perception and categorization of experience. Our panelists discuss how dystopian fiction uses the curtailing of language to curtail thought. Moderator is Isabel Schechter, and panelists are Geoff Strayer, Beverly Friend, and myself.

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My next novel, Immunity Index, goes on sale May 4.

17776: What football will look like in the future by Jon Bois
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Strange and wonderful and fun to read — if “read” is the right word.

Three sentient space probes watch humanity, now immortal, pass the time by playing games that somewhat resemble football. In the process, the story considers the meaning of immortality, the effect of rules, and the creation of purpose in life, among other things — explored through multimedia that sometimes feels like found artifacts.

For the most part, this piece consists of world-building. And what a world! Football games that last millennia. Self-expression via buildings. The importance of minute exploration and observation. It’s told through revealing vignettes and occasional astonishing narratives. The tale about the lightbulb broke my heart. (No spoilers.) I understand sentient machines better now because of that story; they have their heros.

Juice, the rude and excitable space probe, showed an obvious but overlooked aspect of artificial intelligence: some of it might be much too human-like. I loved Juice anyway.

In many ways, 17776 was a daring experiment. It worked. You don’t need to like football to like it.

I think I’ll read it again.


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As you may know, I’m working on a historical novel about the life of Queen Urraca I of Castilla-León, who reigned from 1109 to 1126. (You can read Chapter 1 here.) Her father was Alfonso VI, and one of his knights, for a time, was Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, also known as El Cid. I have a whole shelf of reference material about that particular moment in Spanish history.

What do I think of El Cid, the Spanish TV show on Amazon Prime about the epic of his life? Visually, way cool. Historically, a little shaky. Dramatically, risk-averse. Consider the first episode.

What’s true (spoiler alert):

Rodrigo’s maternal grandfather was a fairly powerful count.

Rodrigo arrived at the court of King Fernando I without much status and rose to become a knight for his son Sancho — and eventually, as an independent warlord, Rodrigo conquered Valencia.

He married Jimena, but more than ten years after Episode One. There’s no evidence they knew each other beforehand, and since she was of quite royal blood, their paths might not have crossed much.

What’s not true:

Jousts of the type shown in the episode were not practiced in the 11th century in Spain or anywhere else.

Fireplaces had not come into use in Europe. Also, León had a public bath, so there was no need to bathe in a tub in the castle. The royal family had a manorial home in León, not a castle. And the castles of the time in Spain weren’t as big and nice as they seem to be in the show.

Royal clothing was far more sumptuous than we generally imagine. Alfonso VI had a tunic made out of spun gold! That’s all I’ll say about the costuming, but I could go on. And on.

The King’s daughter Urraca (aunt of Queen Urraca I) was famously strong-willed, but not for the cheap sexy way she’s depicted on the show.

Rodrigo’s father is not known to have fought in the Battle of Atapuerca or anywhere else; nothing much is known about his father. But anyone who played a key role in that well-chronicled battle would likely have been remembered.

At the same time that King Fernando was getting some nice tribute money from the Muslim taifas, he also carried out a vigorous and successful campaign of conquest. Not for nothing was he called “the Great.” In fact, he earned the title of emperor. The nobles of León were always restive for various reasons, some of them reasonable, but they likely had no complaints about his policies on tributes (parias) and conquest, since he managed plenty of both. There’s no record of a revolt or assassination attempt by the nobles — or by his wife.

Finally, it is unforgivably TV stupid for a potential assassin of the King to be able to climb up the scaffolding beneath the royal bleachers, have a big, long, athletic fight with Rodrigo, get killed — and no one notices! All sorts of people would have been roaming around behind the bleachers doing whatnot, and at least one of them would have been a guard.

My verdict:

It’s fun to watch, but don’t believe everything you see. This is TV, not history. I believe that’s truly sad because the real history is enthralling. The show’s writers have sold their souls to tired melodramatic tropes. It seems they cannot understand, much less appreciate, the depth and breadth of the actual drama of the time, questions of statecraft, honor, and purpose. It was so much bigger and better than petty pointless personal vendettas.

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My next novel, Immunity Index, goes on sale May 4.

I remember a song from when I was in high school. Or rather, I remember a line from that song: “I get all the news I need from the weather report.” In the song, those words had a wistful meaning. Out of context, they stuck with me over the years as the perfect expression of a carefree day.

It’s from the song “The Only Living Boy in New York” by Paul Simon. Enjoy it here.

Sometimes, especially lately, I think of that line and I wish that for just one day it could be true.

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Regarding yesterday, I recommend this interview by NPR’s Noel King, who talks to Eddie Glaude, chair of Princeton University’s department of African American Studies, about the responses to the assault on the US Capitol and to racial justice protests.